Intractable, or Things Not Taken Back
Her words seek to pause her,
insisting that she consider the hornets’ nest.
“I know what intractable means,
but how do you unrape someone?”*
I’ve thought about this question
in the hours before I fall asleep
and in the mornings while I ready myself.
Each time I heed her point,
seeing on a vivid stage both the hornet flying,
and the hornet’s wings ripped off.
Sometimes tormentors exist
to force words to be uttered.
To lay bare what we have pushed down.
To expose unspeakable truths,
and the power they can yield over us.
Not only us though,
as was the point wielded to chastise.
When we take what has changed our worlds,
and threaten to let it change the world,
we can be sure that the devil will react.
The voice of permanence
seeks to taunt us
with how much worse things can get.
Staring us down
with instruments of challenge,
through characters we see as ourselves.
Those who stand to lose something.
Those who have lost control over us.
Those who behold our power
as the weapon it can become.
Missing that such weapons
never get laid down by aggressors,
and that by the time we consider
picking up our tools for survival,
the pull of self defense has reached us.
the one we easily walk away from,
perhaps is the true image
of what remains intractable.
Words of life we speak out
when we’re most ready to die,
and perhaps least ready to fight ourselves.
*reference from Queen Sugar, season 1